


Dawnshadow's Pride

by TortieMom



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: F/M, Fanmade clans, M/M, Multi, OC, OC centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 00:47:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15061376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TortieMom/pseuds/TortieMom
Summary: Following a terrible outbreak of greencough, Dawnpaw and her siblings are made apprentices during a time of fragile relations between NightClan and LightClan. The rivals have sustained peace for seasons, but some wounds run too deep for time to heal. More than a few warriors harbor dreams of vengeance, and whether the peace will last or give way to war depends more upon NightClan's apprentices than any cat realizes...





	1. Allegiances and Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story will contain graphic violence and imagery and one relationship between an apprentice-aged cat and a warrior. Reader discretion is advised.

** Allegiances **

**NightClan**

_Leader:_

Halfstar, black and white tom with amber eyes

_Deputy:_

Moonshadow, dark gray tabby tom with white patches and yellow eyes, mentor to Dawnpaw

_Medicine Cat:_

Rosefall, cream tom with green eyes

Echoheart, pale silver tabby she-cat with blue eyes

_Warriors:_

Darkpelt, black tom with white chest and amber eyes

Thornfang, dark brown and cream tabby she-cat with green eyes

Blackeye, black tom with one yellow eye

Windwhisker, white and gray tabby tom with yellow eyes, mentor to Shadowpaw

Stoneclaw, dark brown and white tom with yellow eyes, mentor to Dewpaw

Gullfeather, pale gray tom with white forepaws and yellow eyes

Lightningstrike, thin yellow tabby she-cat with yellow eyes

Flamefoot, ginger tabby tom with green eyes and white paws, mentor to Brightpaw

Reedsplash, brown tabby tom with blue eyes

_Apprentices:_

Dewpaw, small gray and white tom with blue eyes

Dawnpaw, white she-cat with brown tabby patches and blue eyes

Brightpaw, cream tabby tom with green eyes

Shadowpaw, dark tabby she-cat with green eyes

_Elders:_

Snowytail, white tom with a dark face and tail and blue eyes

 

**LightClan**

_Leader:_

Mousestar, black tom with large ears and green eyes

_Deputy:_

Blueheart, gray she-cat with blue eyes and white markings, mentor to Duskpaw

_Medicine Cat:_

Softflower, brown tabby she-cat with green eyes

_Warriors:_

Cloudpelt, white and cream tabby tom with blue eyes

Graystorm, silver tabby tom with green eyes

Lionclaw, amber tabby tom with yellow eyes, mentor to Silverpaw

Tigerfang, brown tabby she-cat with blue eyes

Dognose, black tom with yellow eyes, mentor to Skypaw

Swiftleap, black and white she-cat with green eyes

Ducktail, white tom with gray tail and blue eyes

Brownclaw, brown tabby tom with amber eyes, mentor to Breezepaw

Dustfur, brown and cream tabby she-cat with yellow eyes

Swallowtail, tortoiseshell she-cat with yellow eyes

_Apprentices:_

Silverpaw, silver tabby tom with green eyes

Duskpaw, calico she-cat with yellow eyes

Skypaw, brown tabby tom with white muzzle and chest and blue eyes

Breezepaw, white tom with cream tabby patches and blue eyes

_Queens:_

Briarleaf, calico she-cat yellow eyes, expecting Mousestar’s kits

Daisypetal, white she-cat with ginger patches and amber eyes, mother of Ducktail’s kits (Redkit, a white and ginger tom; Whitekit, an all-white tom; and Rainkit, a white and gray tom)

_Elders:_

Tallwind, white tom with gray patches and yellow eyes

Rockfur, gray tom with amber eyes

Longwhisker, brown tabby she-cat with blue eyes

 

** Prologue **

****

Nightkit watched from her place beside Mallownose’s warm flank as the tiny scrap of black fur rattled with a wheezing cough. A poultice of leaves and berries sat uselessly on the ground near his open mouth as a pale silver she-cat tried desperately to get the kit to eat the herbs, but he choked and coughed them out again and again, struggling to draw breath.

Mallownose curled her feathery tail around Nightkit as the little she-kit pressed into her fur, nose twitching as she turned away. The coughing quieted and the black kitten’s breath became less and less rasping with each passing heartbeat, but Nightkit knew he hadn’t swallowed the medicine.

With one last twitch of his extended paw, his breathing stopped.

Nightkit and Mallownose bent their heads together, and Mallownose offered the black she-kit a lick between the ears.

They only had to wait a moment before the tom-kit stood, his dark fur lined with the same silver starlight that shone from their pelts.

“Crowkit!” Nightkit purred, bounding forward and barreling into her littermate’s side.

Forgetting the illness that had taken his life completely, Crowkit squealed with joy, reared up on his hind legs, and wrestled with Nightkit. They tumbled together through the sick cats in their moss nests while the silver she-cat wailed.

Mallownose guided the now-boisterous kits out of the medicine den, into the frost-covered clearing of NightClan’s camp. Nightkit sprang away from Crowkit and bounded toward a group of kits whose fur glittered in the moonlight.

Mallownose waited for Crowkit and Nightkit’s mother to push her way through the holly bush in a panic to revive her kit, as she had done only a few moonrises ago.

Instead she saw the dark tabby she-cat padding away from the stale fresh-kill pile with half a mouse hanging limply from her jaws, her eyes not completely focused as she made for the almost empty nursery and what remained of her litter.

Her pain was all too familiar to Mallownose. A moon ago she and Thornfang had been denmates, sharing prey and concerns over the health of their newborns. Then disease took Mallownose’s kits one by one, each loss numbing her a little more to the suffering of her Clanmates. Her heart had been frozen to the very core by the time greencough claimed her life, thawed only when she was reunited with her lost litter in death.

She wanted to call her kits to her, but Mousekit and Foxkit were showing Nightkit and Crowkit the camp, something they had not lived long enough to see before. To them the fresh-kill pile was full of the juiciest squirrels and birds whose feathers fell right off, perfect for lining their nests and playing games. The ground beneath their feet was soft and springy with moss and grass. There were beetles to chase, bird songs to listen to, and the glorious light of the moon to bathe under—all the things a NightClan kit could want.

Mallownose saw beyond StarClan’s sweet touch to the reality their Clanmates were living with. She saw a fresh-kill pile that was half crowfood, a den full of sick warriors, and ground so cold that those left alive could not dig graves for the dead. Their bodies were dragged out in the forest, away from camp, and left for the foxes and crows to pick over. In a macabre way, she was glad that she and her kits had died in the earlier days of the outbreak. At least they’d had proper burials.

There were more warriors of StarClan in the clearing than NightClan.

Littlebranch led her StarClan-born kits toward the nursery, each carrying a feather with a detached amusement. They had never known life, and though Littlebranch was a fiercely protective of them as any queen would be, it was obvious that they were not like the others. It was as if they had been born warriors, with no desire for the games and mischief that any normal kit got up to in their nursery days.

Now young again, Yewheart lingered outside the elders’ den. Although she could no longer bear the sight of her aged and sickly mate, Snowytail, she would not leave him to fight greencough alone. She kept her gaze up, focusing on the brightest and most ancient lights of StarClan, silently beseeching them to either save her lifelong love or bring him to her quickly.

Marshtail practiced battle moves with Asterpaw while Leafclaw looked on with approval at her daughter’s skill. She would have made a fine warrior, but she had died too young to be given an honorary warrior name in StarClan.

Dapplefur and Redmane huddled close together outside the warrior’s den, nuzzling into each others’ thick pelts and quietly discussing who would be the next to join them.

The chip of ice that remained in Mallownose’s heart stung and she scraped her claws across the ground in frustration.

Everyone was waiting.

Waiting for death.

Waiting for the end of NightClan.

Her ears pricked up at the sound of pawsteps approaching the camp. The silver she-cat emerged from the medicine den with a hopeful mew of, “Halfstar and Rosefall have returned!” that her Clanmates barely acknowledged.

She dashed across the clearing toward the camp entrance, eyes bright, only to falter at the broken look on Halfstar’s face.

LightClan had once again refused to give up any of their catmint to NightClan.

Halfstar hardly had the strength to whisper, “Moonshadow’s patrol should return soon. Make sure you get something to eat. It’s going to be a long moon.” Rather than climb the fallen pine tree to address the Clan with encouraging words, he slipped into the den underneath with his head down.

The silver she-cat approached Rosefall and pressed against his shoulder, and he let his apprentice lean against him as disappointment flooded her from nose to tail. The night was beginning to fade away into the morning, but the medicine cats would have no time to rest through the early hours of the day. The cream tom brushed her back with his tail and began grooming her neck and shoulder.

In the pale light of the approaching dawn, the bushes at the entrance of the camp rustled again. Moonshadow returned, not with prey between his jaws, but the still body of Mistpaw. He laid her out in the center of camp, but no one joined him in his vigil.

Mistpaw’s starry visage appeared beside him, lingering for only a moment before trotting over to Asterpaw. The sisters touched noses before settling on either side of their last living littermate, Dewpaw.

The sun rose higher and Mallownose felt her presence in the camp fading. The dead cats’ time to visit their loved ones ended when the moonlight vanished, but they would return the following night, and the next, until they had no more reason to leave Silverpelt.

The silver she-cat’s voice reached Mallownose’s ear before she departed.

“Have StarClan forsaken us, Rosefall?”

“No, Echopaw,” Rosefall mewed bitterly, “But LightClan has—and they will pay for it.”


	2. Chapter One

_Five Moons Later_

Dawnkit poked her head out of the medicine den, bristling with excitement from her nose to the tip of her raised tail. The dusk patrol had just returned—Moonshadow, Flamefoot, and Stoneclaw from the smell of it—with their heads held high. Flamefoot had a scratch on his shoulder, but the ginger tom seemed unbothered and made no move toward the medicine den, much to Dawnkit’s disappointment. She wanted to hear all about what the dusk patrol had seen at the borders of NightClan’s territory… and maybe get a bite of the plump pigeon in his jaws.

Instead, he kept his ears pricked toward Moonshadow as the deputy climbed the Fallen Pine to speak with Halfstar. The proud leader usually spent dawn and dusk there, watching over his Clan. He flicked his tail in greeting as Moonshadow approached and cast one last glance around the clearing of NightClan’s camp, his eyes briefly shining when he caught Dawnkit’s gaze.

Dawnkit purred despite herself. If there was a more noble or compassionate cat in all the forest, she’d eat bugs for a moon!

Halfstar turned his head to speak quietly with Moonshadow and Dawnkit let her attention wander back to Flamefoot, who had dropped the pigeon on the fresh-kill pile and was now giving his shoulder a good wash. He made a point of keeping his scratched shoulder turned away from the medicine den and lapping his orange fur over it to avoid being called in for treatment so it would leave a scar.

 _I wonder what my first scar will be?_ Dawnkit mused. She pictured herself leading a NightClan battle patrol against LightClan. She would rush right up to Mousestar and challenge him to combat! It would be a tough battle, but in the end the mighty NightClan warriors would prevail over LightClan and force them to retreat. Dawnkit would return to camp sporting a new scar befitting a victorious NightClan warrior.

She flicked her ears against the leaves around them. She would look quite distinguished with a nice, clean notch in one ear.

“Dawnkit!” Rosefall called, and she pulled her head back through the holly bush. The cream tom had just finished grooming Brightkit, whose pale cream tabby fur looked silkier than ever. Dawnkit’s own white and brown tabby pelt was a spiky mess thanks to her shuffle through the holly branches, and Rosefall let out an exasperated mew. “This is why I didn’t bother trying to groom you first.”

“If you hadn’t taken so long with Brightpaw, I wouldn’t have gotten bored!” Dawnkit countered, rearing up onto her hind legs and batting at Rosefall’s shoulder. He bit her scruff and pulled her in front of him, then set to smoothing her fur down while she squeaked in protest. She shouldn’t be handled like a kit; she was practically a fully-grown cat!

It seemed silly to her that she and Brightkit had been sent to the medicine den for their grooming instead of sickly Shadowkit, anyway. Of course Thornfang and Darkpelt favored their smallest kit, especially after she was infected with the same sickness that took Nightkit and Crowkit. But the way they carried on, a cat could be forgiven for thinking they hadn’t noticed that Shadowkit had stopped coughing and sniffling _moons_ ago!

“We haven’t gotten our apprentice names yet,” Brightkit reminded her, looking around sheepishly as if they might be in trouble.

“I’m just getting used to it,” Dawnkit replied, wincing while Rosefall worked on a tangle near her shoulder. When he moved to her ears, she pushed back and protested, “Okay, enough! I’m clean!”

“I pity whichever poor cat is forced to be your mentor,” Rosefall purred teasingly at Dawnkit. “You’ll have them running from here to the Moonhill all night!”

“Nope, that’s just you!” Dawnkit flopped onto her back to swipe at Rosefall with all four paws. He sighed and rolled her back over, grooming scraps of moss from her pelt. “Besides, it’s LightClan who will be running!”

“But we’re at peace now,” Brightkit said, eyes wide. “You don’t think there will be a battle soon?”

“No, not yet,” Rosefall muttered. “But you never know. We Clan cats survive by remaining vigilant and keeping our skills sharp. If we relied on peace, we’d be easy pickings for foxes, badgers, and rogues.”

 _Not to mention sickness! Peace didn’t help us when our Clanmates were dying of greencough,_ Dawnkit thought, but she didn’t say it. It wasn’t polite to speak about the outbreak within camp, and it was especially upsetting for Echoheart and Rosefall.

Brightkit shuffled his paws nervously and Dawnkit shook Rosefall off, hopping over to her worrywart littermate. “We’ll be fine! We’re NightClan warriors!”

“ _New apprentices._ ”

“Same difference!” Dawnkit said. “As long as we have the hearts of NightClan warriors, we can’t be defeated. Besides, we have to avenge Crowkit and Nightkit.”

Though Dawnkit had no memory of Crowkit or Nightkit, she had grown up in the shadow of their memory. They were still a part of NightClan, still present in Thornfang’s listless attempts to play with her kits and in Darkpelt joining patrols as often as possible just to be out of camp.

Dawnkit wondered what Thornfang would do now that she and her siblings were being apprenticed. She was too old to have another litter, but too young to retire to the elders’ den.

And without Thornfang, there were no queens left in camp; Echoheart was a medicine cat, and despite having Blackeye for a mate, Lightningstripe had never shown any sign of having kits.

Dawnkit had overheard Rosefall telling Echoheart that the feisty yellow she-cat might be barren. She had been captured by Twolegs during her apprenticeship and disappeared for a whole half-moon. That, too, was considered impolite to talk about openly in camp.

It didn’t take the cleverness of a fox to realize the Clan paid special attention to Dawnkit, Shadowkit, and Brightkit because they were the last remaining hope for NightClan’s future. If anything happened to the few kits that had survived leafbare, NightClan would slowly die out. Not that Dawnkit especially _minded_ the extra attention and occasional gift of feathers for their nest or honeycomb to lick, even if they were always offered to Shadowkit first.

Rosefall flattened the last out-of-place tuft of her on the top of her head. She thought he might scold her for talking about revenge, but he made no comment on it, instead saying, “You’ll have to train twice as hard for Crowkit and Nightkit.”

Echoheart slipped through the holly branches, her mouth full of herbs. She set the new leaves down, weaving carefully around her Clanmates. She must have heard them, because she quietly mewed, “LightClan didn’t kill Crowkit and Nightkit. Greencough did.”

 _Which was LightClan’s fault!_ Dawnkit wanted to argue, but she was cut off by Halfstar’s yowl.

“Let all cats who can find their way in the dark gather beneath the Fallen Pine for a Clan meeting!”

Brightkit’s fur spiked up in alarm and Dawnkit ran around him in a circle, unbalancing him and causing him to stumble into the herbs that Echoheart had just sorted. “It’s time!” she purred, leaping through the holly bush and getting her fur ruffled. With a flick of his tail, Rosefall nudged Brightkit to his feet and they followed Dawnkit into the clearing.

Even though the sun had sunk below the pines, the clearing was still warm from the greenleaf sun. Dawnkit couldn’t imagine sitting on the hot, exposed earth during sunhigh. How did LightClan manage through the hot, hot days?

 _The sun must have scorched their brains! No sensible cat would be out at sunhigh,_ she thought.

All of NightClan was already gathered beneath the Fallen Pine, but the warriors parted to allow Brightkit and Dawnkit through to the front. Shadowkit was already there, sitting neatly with her tail curled over her paws, her sleek, black fur shining in the moonlight.

Countless seasons ago, the Fallen Pine had crashed down to the earth and opened a claw-shaped hole in the forest canopy that allowed the moon to shine all the way down to the ground. Nightstar had taken that as a sign that this clearing was where her Clan belonged, and had established NightClan’s camp there with her own den hollowed out beneath the Fallen Pine.

Dawnkit looked up at the felled tree, then Halfstar seated on top, and finally the moon high above. Her paws itched with energy and she shuffled them, trying and failing to be as still as her littermates.

“Aren’t you two excited?” Dawnkit asked. “How can you sit there so calmly?”

“We have to wait for moonhigh,” Shadowkit pointed out.

Dawnkit looked again. The moon was _almost_ directly overhead. “Can’t it go any faster?”

“Maybe Halfstar is rethinking our mentors one more time,” Brightkit suggested. “I know if I were leader, I’d take ages to figure it out. It’s such an important choice.”

“Halfstar knows exactly who should mentor us,” Dawnkit said, trying to look a little less like she had ants in her pelt. Her tail and ears twitched, but she managed to keep her paws on the ground and not leap out of her fur when Halfstar’s voice cut through the crisp night air.

“The moon has risen; NightClan answers her call.”

“May we shine through the darkest depths,” the Clan answered.

Halfstar nodded. “Indeed, we have seen the darkest depths recently—but tonight we greet three new members into our noble ranks to help brighten these dark skies. Shadowkit, Brightkit, and Dawnkit, it is time for you to be made warrior apprentices. You may climb the Fallen Pine.”

Dawnkit lurched forward, clearing the distance with a strong jump from her seated position. She dug her claws into the soft bark of the tree and hauled herself up with ease. Shadowkit darted after her, one back leg slipping against the wood for just a heartbeat before she joined her sister. Brightkit gave one anxious look back at Rosefall before joining them, choosing to climb rather than chance a jump.

“Do you pledge yourself to the teachings of the warrior code, and honoring the mentor who guides your paws?” Halfstar asked, his voice solemn despite the bright glow of moonlight in his eyes.

“I do!” Dawnkit squealed, followed more quietly by Brightkit and Shadowkit.

“Then from this day on, until you receive your warrior names, you will be known as Shadowpaw, Brightpaw, and Dawnpaw.” He turned to the gathered warriors, his eyes landing on three specific warriors. “Windwhisker, you have already trained excellent warriors. You have shown great skill in hunting and courage in battle, both of which saved NightClan from much more grief during the last leafbare. You will be mentor to Shadowpaw.”  

Windwhisker bounded up the log to touch noses with Shadowpaw, and Dawnpaw breathed in her relief so the Clan wouldn’t notice. Windwhisker was an amazing warrior, but she hadn’t wanted the quiet, no-nonsense tom for her own mentor. She was hoping for a cat she could be lifelong friends with, and she couldn’t see that happening with the older white and gray tabby.

“Flamefoot,” Halfstar called, “You are a young warrior, but you have proven your dedication to NightClan. I hope you will pass on your quick-thinking and enthusiasm to your first apprentice… and that your apprentice might remind you when you need to go to the medicine den. You will be mentor to Brightpaw; I believe the two of you will make each other into better warriors.”

The ginger warrior bounded up the Fallen Pine, and though Brightpaw initially looked intimidated by the warrior’s energy, he came forward to touch noses with his new mentor quick enough.

Dawnpaw couldn’t keep the fidget out of her tail. It was her turn now! She looked at the warriors, trying to spot the one Halfstar was looking at now. Who would it be? _Who_?

“Moonshadow.”

Dawnpaw gasped. She was going to be mentored by the deputy!

“Moonshadow, you are my most trusted warrior. I know that you can guide any cat’s energy into service for their Clan and help them reach her fullest potential as a warrior. I know you will teach Dawnpaw everything she needs to know as her mentor.”

Dawnpaw tried to stand still when Moonshadow climbed the pine and leaned down to touch noses with her, but she couldn’t stand to wait and leaned up at the last minute, bumping their noses into each other. Despite the brief mews of laughter from the cats closest to them, Dawnpaw was too excited to be embarrassed.

“Shadowpaw! Brightpaw! Dawnpaw!”


	3. Chapter Two

“ _Skypaw! Breezepaw!"_

Skypaw fluffed up his fur and basked in the pride of his Clanmates’ calls before leaping down from the Tall Stump. Already his paws felt more sure on the soft ground and short grass of LightClan’s hollow, and he landed with ease next to Breezepaw.

Before he could take more than a few steps, Tigerfang purred and touched noses with him while Cloudpelt brushed his tail over his and Breezepaw’s backs. Breezepaw squirmed away to run after Brownclaw, but Skypaw waited a moment to soak up their parents’ attention. Things would be different now that he was no longer a kit in the nursery. He might be too busy training to even talk to them for days!

“I know you’ll be great warriors,” Tigerfang mewed, nuzzling Skypaw so fiercely that she nearly knocked him over. He felt the rough brush of her tongue over his ear, but Cloudpelt butted her shoulder with his before she could get carried away with grooming Skypaw again.

 “You’d better get to your mentor. There’s a lot to learn about being a LightClan warrior,” Cloudpelt said.

Skypaw nodded, rubbing his cheek against Tigerfang’s and Cloudpelt’s one last time before rushing off across the hollow.

It wasn’t hard to spot the tall, lean shape of Dognose. The dark tom didn’t have ears quite as big or a muzzle quite as pronounced as Mousestar’s, but any cat could see the resemblance in an instant.

Skypaw ducked his head when he saw that Brownclaw and Breezepaw were already waiting next to Dognose.

Brownclaw looked quite pleased, happy to at last have his first apprentice after seasons of waiting. He’d spent almost every morning for the last moon showing Skypaw and Breezepaw the hunting crouch. Breezepaw, however, was twitching his tail so much that at first Skypaw thought he’d sat down too close to an ant nest.

“About time!” Breezepaw huffed, swiping a paw over his whiskers. “I thought I’d be an elder before you caught up.”

“Sorry,” Skypaw mumbled.

“Patience makes a better hunter,” Dognose said, tilting his head the way he always did when he was speaking to a younger cat. “That is a lesson you must learn straight away. LightClan territory is not the safest for reckless cats.”

Breezepaw shook out his pelt, sneaking a sharp glare at Dognose.

_Sorry!_ Skypaw wanted to say again, but Brownclaw was already talking.

“Dognose is right. LightClan territory keeps us safe, but only because we know how to navigate it. You’ll need to stay sharp and pay attention to exactly what we do.”

Skypaw’s embarrassment over being late and getting Breezepaw scolded vanished like a ground squirrel into its hole. Even though it was against the rules, most kits did sneak out of camp at least once before they reached six moons, but Breezepaw and Skypaw had never gotten that chance under Tigerfang’s close watch.

Not that any cat could blame her for being just a little overbearing. They had been her first litter, and two of them had wandered off while Tigerfang was asleep. No cat knew exactly what happened, but the strong stench of foxes on the territory the following morning gave them a good guess.

_I wish Gustkit and Tempestkit could be here today,_ Skypaw thought. He turned his face to the bright morning sky. _Are they watching from StarClan right now?_

As he climbed out of the hollow after Breezepaw and their mentors, he whispered a cheer of, “ _Gustpaw_! _Tempestpaw_!”

 

LightClan’s territory stretched out below them. The hollow was high in the hills, allowing the guards to easily keep watch over the land. The ground sloped steeply toward the direction of the sunset, where a river divided the hills from the dense forest. Deep, shaded gullies cut into the hills.

Skypaw understood what Dognose and Brownclaw meant about how dangerous LightClan’s territory could be now. Some of the trenches were so deep that he couldn’t see the bottoms, and a cat could get seriously hurt if they fell in on accident.

Dognose spoke as if he had read Skypaw’s mind. “The gullies can be dangerous when you don’t know how to move around them, but they also help protect LightClan from invaders. We check them daily to make sure foxes and badgers aren’t trying to settle in them, and for rogues and loners that have fallen in and need help. Be careful when you approach; the ground around them isn’t always steady. It can give way and make you slip.”

They headed downhill toward the river, moving cautiously around the gullies with Dognose in the lead. Skypaw made sure he put his paws exactly where Dognose did, watching him closely to learn how they should walk near the gashes in the earth, shifting his weight onto the side further from the edge so he could recover his balance quickly if he slipped.

Behind them, Brownclaw meowed in approval. “Very good, both of you. The more you patrol, the more this will become second nature. Soon you’ll be comfortable enough to look into the gullies when you pass, but for now let’s focus on getting to the border.”

Breezepaw couldn’t help but peek into the crevice. “I think I can see something!”

Dognose glanced down. “A lizard, too small to be worth stopping. We’ll show you how to hunt in the gullies another day. Just pay attention to where you’re walking for now.”

The moment he finished speaking, Breezepaw’s hind foot slipped on the loose ground. He yowled in alarm and dug his claws into a clump of grass. Brownclaw bit into his scruff and pulled him from the edge, tail lashing.

Skypaw bounded toward his littermate, but Breezepaw hissed, “I’m fine!” and shook out his fur again, his expression sour.

“You’re lucky you didn’t fall,” Brownclaw’s mew was stern, but not uncaring. “Slips happen, but you should be more careful next time.”

Dognose touched a patch of grass with his paw. “We’ll focus more on recovery techniques another day, but one piece of advice for now: when in doubt, stay near the grassy patches. There are roots underneath that help hold the ground in place.”

He turned and continued down the slope toward the river. Skypaw placed his paw on the yellow-green tuft as he passed by, and though he tried to be subtle about it, so did Breezepaw.

Despite the Greenleaf heat, the river was rushing along the edge of its border. Beyond was the forest, and Skypaw craned his neck to see the tops of the trees. They were always visible from the edge of the hollow, but they looked smaller from there. What he could see of the forest floor was dark, the trees reaching so high that they blocked out the sun. The wind rustled the branches, carrying a heavy, musty smell with it.

_Poor NightClan_ , Skypaw thought. Their territory must be so crowded and cold. How did they live without sunlight to warm their pelts and wind to smooth their fur? How did they hunt when they couldn’t see where they were going? And worst of all—how could they be close to StarClan with so many trees blocking out their light?

Breezepaw wrinkled his nose in disgust. “What’s that _stench_?”

“That is NightClan,” Brownclaw said. “The river marks where their territory begins. No sensible LightClan warrior would ever cross it without good reason, but you’ll find that they feel the need to mark every inch of the border anyway.”

“How do we visit their camp?” Skypaw asked, dipping a paw into the river. The current rushed by, and the icy water chilled him right to the bone.

“There are stones a little further down that we can use to cross into NightClan territory, but we rarely do since the Gathering place is on our side. Only Mousestar and Softflower have any need to cross,” Dognose explained.

“Speaking of the Gathering place…” Brownclaw gestured with his tail, and the group followed him.

About a dozen fox-lengths away were the stepping stones and another hollow that slanted toward the river. A tree grew at the top, its roots exposed within the hollow. Claw marks scored the bark where the leaders and deputies climbed up to sit on them. It reminded Skypaw of the medicine den in LightClan’s camp. If the hollow had just a few more hedges, it would be just like the camp.

“… Even though we _are_ on LightClan territory, this place doesn’t belong to us. We don’t hunt here out of respect. The last thing NightClan needs is a reminder that they’re on another Clan’s land.”

“Usually if NightClan warriors need to talk to us about something when it isn’t a Gathering night, they wait there. Medicine cats also meet here before going to the Moonhill together,” Dognose added.

They continued along the river, and Skypaw found himself glancing toward the forest every so often to see if he could catch a glimpse of the rival Clan’s warriors. He knew it was foolish; NightClan came out at night, just as LightClan cats were active during the day. But what a story it would make if he saw a NightClan warrior on his first day out of camp!

“This area is a great for apprentices to practice hunting,” Dognose said, weaving through the tall grass. “There aren’t any gullies to fall into and the ground is fairly flat, so you can build up enough speed to run down rabbits.”

“ _If_ you’re fast enough,” Brownclaw replied, nudging the long-legged warrior with his shoulder. “You and Graystorm can race after all the rabbits you like, but I’ll stick to stalking mice and squirrels, thank you.”

Skypaw and Breezepaw pricked their ears and tasted the air the way Brownclaw had shown them in the nursery, but their mentors didn’t slow down to examine the area. They were on a tour of the territory, not a hunting patrol. They hadn’t even had a proper hunting lesson yet. Still, Skypaw didn’t miss the irritated twitch of Breezepaw’s whiskers when they continued on without stopping.

“This next part is incredibly important, so I want you both to pay close attention.” Dognose said. He broke away from the group for a moment, but Brownclaw signaled for Breezepaw and Skypaw to keep going. Dognose rejoined them moments later with a mouse dangling from his jaws, and the apprentice exchanged a questioning look. Why did he hunt if they weren’t going to have a training session?

The black warrior retook the lead, guiding them back up the slope and away from NightClan territory. They walked for a while over the shallow hills and around gullies, even jumping over a few thinner ones, until they were standing before a long expanse of silver ivy that grew upward and wrapped around itself.

Skypaw almost leaned closer to get a better look at the strange plant, but Brownclaw cut him off. “Stay back!”

“Did Twolegs build this?” Breezepaw asked, sitting up on his hind paws to look around his mentor.

“Yes. It marks the end of LightClan territory, and for good reason,” Brownclaw explained, and repeated, “Stay back.”

Skypaw and Breezepaw sat close together, staring at the woven ivy.

Dognose set the mouse down. “StarClan, we thank you for this prey. Though we know your noble code says that prey is hunted only to feed the Clan, we hope that you will excuse us this once. This mouse was hunted to show our apprentices the dangers of Twoleg things and prevent unnecessary grief, not for fun or selfishness.”

Then he flung the mouse at the ivy with a hooked swipe of his paw.

Sparks flew from the barrier and the acrid sting of burning flesh and fur filled the air. The mouse dropped and lay smoking on the ground, blackened where it had touched the Twoleg ivy.

Breezepaw and Skypaw jumped up with a unified hiss, their backs arched and tails bushed out in alarm.

“What happened?” Skypaw exclaimed.

“This is the Lightning Wall. You must never, ever, ever touch it, even with a whisker, or you’ll share the same fate as that mouse. If you only remember one thing from today, remember that. Good cats have lost their lives because they were careless and forgot how dangerous the wall is.”

The two young toms took a few steps back from the Lightning Wall.

“Why would the Twolegs make such an evil thing?” Breezepaw asked.

“We don’t know. Maybe they’re protecting their territory,” Dognose suggested.

“It doesn’t matter why they built it. What matters is that we stay away from it, at least one fox length at all times,” Brownclaw said. “Obviously we don’t patrol the border closely here. Our main concern is the border with NightClan, and keeping a watch for rogues on the other side of the territory. But they’re less likely to cross the river than NightClan, and we don’t usually have to worry about cats coming down from the mountains.”

Skypaw looked across the hills, to the jagged peaks that rose into the sky where the sun rose. It was hard to imagine that there were cats who lived on the other side. There were loners and rogues for sure, but what if there were other Clans, too? His mind buzzed with the possibilities like bees in a hive, but he knew he would never know the answer for sure. He belonged in LightClan and nowhere else.

“That covers everything you need to know for now. What do you think of our territory?” Brownclaw asked.

If they hadn’t gone to see the Lightning Wall, Skypaw would have enthusiastically answered that he loved how the territory itself defended LightClan from invasion, and that the constant breeze in his fur made him feel like he could run from sunrise to sunset. He wanted to say how eager he was to start learning how to hunt above ground and down in the gullies.

But after seeing the way the Lightning Wall burned up the mouse, and imagining what it might do to a living creature, a living _cat_ , he found it hard to say anything at all.

“It’s home,” Breezepaw answered for him. “It’s _our_ home, and we’ll fight to the last breath to defend it.”

Dognose twitched his whiskers in approval. “Very good. Thankfully we’re at peace now, and have been for some time. But, there are always dangers lurking in the wild. We’ll be glad to have two new strong, brave cats to help protect LightClan when you’re done with your training.”

The uphill walk back to the hollow was a lot longer and more tiring. Both of the apprentices lifted their heads and tails higher when they saw the familiar walls and bushes of their home. Skypaw bounded over the edge of the hollow and slid down, barreling into Silverpaw, who was talking to Graystorm while they shared a squirrel.

“Ow!” the older apprentice hissed before he saw who it was. “Oh, Skypaw—the tour went well, then?”

“It was interesting,” Skypaw said, sitting down next to him. Silverpaw passed him the rest of the squirrel as Graystorm got up to leave the young cats alone.

While few cats would be able to tell that Silverpaw hadn’t been born in LightClan, Graystorm had never quite lost the look of a loner, and he didn’t like talking to more than one cat at a time. There were still cats in LightClan who didn’t like the fact that Mousestar had taken the loner in during the already difficult Leafbare season, but none of them would have turned his young kit away.

Silverpaw was only a moon older than Skypaw and Breezepaw. Even though he was only across the hollow in the apprentice’s den, Skypaw had missed playing with him since his apprenticeship began.

“I remember being a little shaken up the first time I saw the Lightning Wall,” Silverpaw said, guessing at what was on Skypaw’s mind. “Especially since Graystorm might have tried to climb over it if we hadn’t joined LightClan. But if you keep your distance, it’s not a problem.”

“I know,” Skypaw mewed. “It’s just—”

“—Shocking!” Breezepaw finished, pouncing on Skypaw. The two rolled a few tail-lengths down into the hollow, nearly crashing into another cat who was padding up from the fresh-kill pile.

“Hey!” Duskpaw dropped the pigeon she’d been carrying onto Breezepaw. He scrambled to get back onto his paws, tearing out a few feathers that fluttered against Skypaw’s nose and made him sneeze. Breezepaw managed to stand, directly over Skypaw, and flicked his ears in embarrassment.

“Hi, Duskpaw,” Breezepaw stammered. “Nice, uh, bird.”

Duskpaw flicked a down feather off her forepaw. “Hi, Breezepaw.” She picked up the pigeon and trotted the rest of the way to Silverpaw, only to set the pigeon down again and sit beside him. “Well, come on, then! You must be hungry from walking all morning.”

Skypaw jumped to his feet—knocking into Breezepaw again—and bounded up to where the other apprentices were settled. Breezepaw always stumbled over his words _and_ his paws when Duskpaw was around. She was the prettiest cat in LightClan, her angular face framed by long, silky calico fur that made her look more like Briarleaf than Mousestar.

He twitched his whiskers. It was easy to forget that Duskpaw was the younger sister of Dognose and Swiftleap, and that meant he was being mentored by his friend’s brother. Was that weird? What if they had a training session together?

Duskpaw tore a wing loose and passed the pigeon over to Skypaw, and his mouth watered. He set aside his thoughts for a moment to dig his teeth into the soft flesh.

 “We scented NightClan near the border,” Breezepaw said, lifting his chin.

“How could you not?” Silverpaw snorted.

“Have you ever seen a NightClan cat?” Skypaw asked through a mouthful of fresh-kill.

“Once or twice,” Silverpaw said with a disinterested yawn.

“They’re polite enough,” Duskpaw said. “Mousestar took me on a twilight patrol the other day and we saw a few. Gullfeather, Windwhisker, and… Reedsplash, I think? They said hello and asked us how things are in LightClan, but we didn’t say much. Even if we had big news we wouldn’t tell them—that’s what Gatherings are for. I can’t wait to go and meet the new NightClan apprentices!”

“We shouldn’t get too friendly with them,” Breezepaw said. “They are a potential enemy, after all.”

“Not during Greenleaf. There’s plenty of prey, so we have no reason to fight,” Duskpaw pointed out.

“Greenleaf ends,” Breezepaw mumbled, turning his attention to picking through the pigeon’s feathers to get to the meat.

“If you’re going to be that ominous, you might want to talk to Softflower about being her apprentice instead of Brownclaw’s,” Silverpaw said, giving himself a quick wash before getting up. “Lionclaw and I are on twilight patrol today, so I’m going to get a nap in before it gets dark.” He flicked one of Skypaw’s ears with his tail. “We’ve already made your nests, by the way. I hope you’ve quit snoring!”

Before Skypaw could reply, Silverpaw’s sleek shape disappeared under the bramble wall of the apprentice’s den.

Skypaw ran a paw over his ear. Silverpaw was right; even Dognose said that they were at peace with NightClan now, and there was no reason that should end any time soon. They had more reason to worry about foxes and badgers and slipping into the trenches on their own territory than an invasion from the forest cats.

It didn’t matter where the danger came from. Skypaw would train hard and become the best warrior he could be, and when trouble did come, he’d be ready to defend his Clan.


End file.
